Harry Potter and the Beholder of Death
by GRIMomenofdeath
Summary: All was silent on Privet Drive; all the houses on the street did not show any sign of people awake, except for a lit room in number four. Harry Potter laid on his bed reflecting on everything that had happened in his life...


Chapter 1: Depression  
  
All was silent on Privet Drive; all the houses on the street did not show any sign of people awake, except for a lit room in number four. Harry Potter laid on his bed reflecting on everything that had happened in his life.  
  
Anyone would think that Harry was just an average, normal boy if they had seen him walking down the street with his untidy jet-black hair with bright green eyes beneath his round glasses. But Harry was a wizard and under all his messy hair was a scar on his forehead shaped like a bolt of lightning. This scar was the only souvenir of his tragic past.  
  
Fifteen years ago, a dark wizard was responsible for many deaths, including Harry's parents'. His name was Lord Voldemort, but with the scores of lives he had taken, most of the people in the Wizarding World feared to speak his name. When Lord Voldemort went to the Potters' he had murdered them with the same curse that killed some of the best witches and wizards. Once Voldemort used that curse on one-year old Harry Potter, something happened that he had not expected, the curse countered, leaving Harry nothing but that scar. Lord Voldemort, barely alive, had fled. This one event changed Harry's life. Voldemort had marked Harry that day -- marked him as his equal. The dark lord did not know what happened that night, but knew from a prophecy that Harry was the one who would be able to defeat him in the future. All he had on his mind, was to kill Harry while he was still a harmless infant, but when the curse recoiled, everything went downhill. When Voldemort revived himself in Harry's fourth year, all he wanted was to hear the rest of the prophecy. Last year, the prophecy was destroyed and Voldemort never heard that he or Harry must die at the hands of the other.  
  
What happened last year was a memory Harry wished he had never witnessed. Harry had suffered the loss of his godfather, Sirius Black when he dueled one of Voldemort's death eaters, Bellatrix Lestrange and fell through the mysterious black veil. He was never to be seen again.  
  
Now, Harry lived in his only living relatives' residence and was staring mindlessly at his wall like he did most of his days since the day he returned from his fifth year at Hogwarts. After the scene at King's Cross, Harry had been respected by the Dursleys' everyday. Each day at the Dursleys', Harry got his time to himself and everything else he couldn't have possibly gotten from them before. Harry frequently refused anything from the Dursleys' (usually his meals).  
  
Without a meal, another day passed, Harry was now sixteen and he sunk into a long sleep.  
  
Every other day since the day he returned to Privet Drive, Harry got a visit from Mrs. Figg to check up on him for the order. She usually ambled up to Harry's bedroom each afternoon after the Dursleys' instant approval. All the days that Mrs. Figg came to stop by, Harry never held back an opportunity to ask if he was going to abscond from this household ever again.  
  
Harry awoke that morning from the rapping at his bedroom door. Everyday, without permission, Dudley entered the room and called Harry for breakfast.  
  
"Breakfast's ready," Dudley said.  
  
"I'm not hungry," Harry said groggily turning his back to Dudley.  
  
Harry listened to Dudley spin toward the door and depart after flicking the light switch off. He could have sworn he heard Dudley greet him a happy birthday when he left the room.  
  
He had already forgotten it was his birthday; today he, Harry was sixteen. Had it really been his birthday? He had believed he felt his birthday pass once before, but realized he had just spent many days in his room lying on his bed thinking that there was no use to his life. He knew his future would eventually lead to the end of his life or taking the life of another; some days even wishing Voldemort would fulfill the prophecy and kill him.  
  
Harry slipped his glasses off and rubbed the sides of his nose due to sleeping with them during the night. He placed his glasses back on and rested again on his pillow. He took a deep breath when his bedroom door opened for a second time.  
  
"I said I wasn't hungry," Harry repeated.  
  
"I guess we decided on a wrong present, then," said a familiar voice.  
  
"Remus?" Harry said as he sat up from his bed and faced the door.  
  
Harry was face to face with Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks.  
  
"Happy birthday, Harry," Remus greeted warmly wearing the friendliest grin.  
  
"If I'm correct, you turned sixteen today?" Tonks guessed. Tonks had changed her hair to a dull brown color, lengthened it and tied it up in a ponytail.  
  
Harry nodded. He couldn't stop smiling.  
  
"I wasn't expecting you to be here," Harry said.  
  
"We heard you haven't been eating much lately and for a while, we thought we have got the right gift for you, but it turns out you're not hungry," Tonks explains.  
  
"I am starving, I just didn't feel like eating breakfast today," Harry confessed.  
  
"Here," Remus said handing Harry a small white box, "from the order."  
  
Harry opened the box and discovered a scrumptious-looking cake in it.  
  
"Thanks," Harry said.  
  
"Oh. And there's more from your friends," Lupin took out a brown package from his coat and rested it by Harry's side, "I believe that one is from Ron and this one is from Fred and George," Remus put a small, thin red box on top of Ron's package, "and this is from Hermione," he said placing a tiny present and an envelope on his other birthday presents.  
  
Harry didn't really care about his presents at the moment. All that he knew now was that he was finally able to escape from the Dursleys' again. He couldn't have thought of a better time to leave.  
  
"Thanks again. I thought I would never get out of this place, " Harry said as he laid the cake on his bed and paced in the direction of his trunk, "I've been thinking too much and I think I've drowned myself into it, but all that matters now is that I can leave and--"  
  
Remus grabbed Harry's shoulder before he could open his trunk.  
  
"Harry, this is what I've always feared. We need to talk, sit down," Remus stated.  
  
Harry stepped away from Remus. Lupin's hand fell to his side. Harry sat on the floor and rested his back against his bed. Harry grasped the fact that Lupin knew what he had been thinking about during the summer. The capability of holding a conversation had suddenly changed for Harry did not feel like talking about his thoughts and recognized that he should have kept his mouth shut, but Remus seemed to take very relevantly. He looked up to Remus and Tonks, who were exchanging glances. Harry buried his face in his hands.  
  
Remus advanced toward Harry and sat on the empty floor by him.  
  
"Look at me, Harry," Lupin said.  
  
Harry hesitated.  
  
"Harry," Lupin began, "You're depressed. It's things like this you need to stay away from and resist so you can live your life without influential pain, no matter how tough it is."  
  
What was Remus talking about? Harry was suffering depression? What influential pain? 


End file.
